Make your Way
by dontwalkdown
Summary: AU. GEH is struggling to stay on top, to make things worse, Christian suspects Ana may be pregnant, but quickly decides having bringing a child into this 'war' is a mistake. Ana knows she'll have to tell me, but when will she? Will he be the one to bring this up? How will they face this? Together or apart?
1. Chapter 1

**No cheating. HEA. And none of these characters belong to me, aside from some originals that I may include. Ana is 22 and Christian is 28 and married. Hope you like it.**

* * *

On my way to work, Taylor tunes in on a channel that's currently raising awareness concerning teenage pregnancy. This doesn't interest me in the slightest, but when he attempts to switch, I halt him. My interest soars when someone starts listing some of the most common pregnancy symptoms. As she goes through the list, I become more and more certain I've seen this before, and one in particular just this morning.

Morning sickness.

For a week now, Ana has been waking up only to run to our bathroom, locking herself for no less than ten minutes. She tells me everything is fine, and gives me some excuse that she thinks may work on me. I don't push it, though. After a very rough argument between us about me wanting to take her to the Hospital, I decide to respect her wishes, and just leave this be for the time being.

The other aspect on the list: extreme mood swings.

Now, about this I'm absolutely sure. I know enough of the opposite sex to believe mood swings come attached with almost every female. Ana might well be the exception to that rule. Or at least, was. For two weeks I have to put up with one minute of intense crying, and the next of thundering laughter. I've even gone as far as to ask Mrs. Jones what this may be, but she dismissed the issue, saying it happens from time to time to some women.

Fair enough. I put on my patience-cloak, trying not to think too much about this. For all I know, this can be due to the immense stress we've been under for the past month.

When I first started Grey Enterprises Holdings, wise man told me to climb to the top of the biggest companies in the States with some subtlety. They said that what I did back then would come back to haunt me. I ignored them, and began rising more and more among some of the finest business careers I once looked upon. But it seems my company would be facing a rough time rather sooner than later. I suspect some certain people are behind this; maybe even some from the inside. Someone is working extremely efficiently to scratch me from the top.

Ana has been standing beside me as this mess unfolds, and it has taken a toll on her sanity, I figure. If there's one thing I used to take pride in was my business stability. Now I find myself scowling and yelling at people for minor things. Even Ana doesn't escape this wrath at times, and I can only imagine the burden I've placed on her.

I'm a wreck now, but upon realizing some of the symptoms have actually been living with me for the past weeks, I can't help but to reckon there is something she's been hiding from me. Our extreme level of intimacy has been replaced with sudden bursts of tears from her and my late night calls with associates.

But then I try to reason with myself. Ana is supposed to take shots of an extremely reliable contraceptive. There is no way she is pregnant. Unless... she's forgotten one shot.

Fuck.

I see Taylor's concerned stare from the rear-view mirror as I lean back in my seat.

He turns the radio off. "Is everything okay, sir?"

"I will be when this fucking turmoil ends."

"Everything will be back to normal, sir," he says, but I know he doesn't believe a word he's just said.

The traffic light goes green, and the slight trembles of the SUV rock into a deep state of thought. What if she is indeed pregnant? I've told her a long time ago that I had no intentions of expanding my family, and the effect it had on Ana. However, I never dismissed the possibility in my head.

But one thing I'm positive about: I don't want to have a child in the middle of this environment.

Taylor has been able to conceal some of threats that are aimed at Ana, but deep down I know she's not completely oblivious to what's happening; the anonymous calls at four in the morning; the broken elevator at Escala; my constant stressing state. Besides, I don't sleep much these days which allows me to endure Ana's struggles at night.; the nightmares. Two days ago I had to wake her up from a non-stopping crying session in her sleep. When I asked her what was bothering her, she was very evasive. Back then, I blamed it all on my professional life. However, maybe something else is causing her constant stirs and sobs at night.

Instead of remaining the rest of the trip encased in my reflection, I decide that Taylor may be able to enlighten me on this subject.

"Taylor, how did you react when you found out you were going to be a father?"

He may have the best poker-face I've ever seen, but right now, not even he can contain a baffled stare through the mirror.

"Sir?"

Taylor isn't the type to open up about his personal life. "What did you feel?"

He clears his throat. "Well... at first I was reluctant. I had been home less than two months after a mission. That changed when I stopped thinking of only myself."

I let his words sink a little deeper in my head, but then something else transfigured his face.

"Is Ms Steele... pregnant, sir?"

The thought alone stirs something unfamiliar inside me: insecurity. I do know the current state of my professional life is straining my intimate life beyond imaginable which leads me to believe no child should ever have to be born among this. I know what's like to grow up to some really messed up people.

"Sir?"

"I... don't know."

He doesn't need to speak for me to know his thoughts on the matter. I've grown used to understanding him through his silence.

Fuck this. I should be mad at Ana for suppressing this information from me, but how could I? Ana's current stress state is caused by me... and so is this child if she is indeed pregnant.

* * *

Even the weather seems sympathetic with my current gloomy condition.

It starts to pour outside; the droplets rolling down the bedroom window in the most enchanting trails. That may just be an excuse for me to avoid staring at the TV screen as the same headline pops over and over again in the news.

'Grey Enterprises Holdings may be facing the biggest rupture of its existence. The CEO, Christian Grey, a young success, refuses to comment on this. This afternoon the press conference will give us some insight on what is exactly happening to one of Seattle's most profitable business company.'

The image of Christian is reflected on the window, and I turn my head to look at it on the screen. Some people have made it their highest priority to get pictures of him every day, only to show how his world is deteriorating. It breaks my heart to see him walk out the door every morning with reluctance, and come back completely empty.

He refuses to speak to me about it, after all, it's everyday's headline. All I have to do is read the newspaper or turn the TV on.

To make things even more unbearable, I've found out two weeks ago what it means to feel hopeless among the countless threats and eminent bankruptcy. I was ten days late, and even though I'm not the example of regularity, something didn't feel right. I went in and bought an early pregnancy test. The long wait for the results was driving me mad as I locked myself in the bathroom. Soon enough, two lines started to form a cross, giving me a solid confirmation of my worst fears.

The first week went along quite well, without Christian noticing major changes. Last week, however, things got worse. My voracious hunger could not be tamed, and I found myself asking Mrs. Jones the most ridiculous cakes and sweets. The morning sickness began the previous week and has been dragging relentlessly on. So when Christian came demanding explanations for my sudden mood swings and never-ending vomit, I just couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth.

I tried to cover my tracks with some really unbelievable pretexts like food poisoning – that didn't exactly amuse Mrs. Jones. The others included overly sensitive stomach and stress. Well, the last one was half true, to be honest.

I believe he knows the truth, but decides to overlook. It's as if this is something that if you ignore it for a long time, it goes away. It grows.

Mrs. Jones has knocked on the door several times, calling me to eat something. Needless to say my stomach is completely hollow from its previous emptying just a few minutes ago. Not to mention my recently acquired trait to get nauseated by every odor.

Definitely pacing around the bedroom isn't an option for the rest of the day, so I just exit to the kitchen to find myself covering my nose at the hideous smell that enters my nostrils.

"Oh God... what is that awful smell?"

Mrs. Jones tilts her head away from the oven, frowning mildly at my not-so-kind comment. "Chocolate cake, dear. Like you've asked."

"Oh, sorry, Mrs Jones," I really need to restrain my mouth.

I walk over to the counter, pulling a stool for me to sit. She turns to me, her face as warm as ever. "What do you want to eat, sweetheart?"

I know exactly what I want, since I've been craving it since two in the morning. "Waffles with bananas and whipped cream, please."

Mrs. Jones quirks a brow, but she has been the one to fulfill my every desire so she doesn't question my choice. She promptly sets everything to prepare my request.

"You'll have to tell Mr. Grey eventually, dear."

She was the first one to see through my web of lies from the start. Ever since, she's been my refuge, even though she'd be happier if all this deceit would just stop.

I drum my fingers on the cold counter, straying away from our conversation. Not even Kate knows about this, though I reckon she'd be too happy to even scold me for being this reckless. How could I have forgotten one shot? _One_ freaking shot! The work at SIP has been driving me crazy, and I took this day off under the pretext that I'm too indisposed to work which isn't a lie. Allying that with the ever-stressful atmosphere at home led me to cancel it with Dr. Greene, and just when I contemplated the idea of rescheduling, I'm already six days late. I would never have suspected a pregnancy. We haven't been all that intimate, except for that one time back in the bathroom. One time.

For now, I'm relieved that only Mrs. Jones knows. She's told me Christian has been bombing her with several questions about _women behavior,_ but hadn't gotten anything out of her.

"What if he kicks me out?" I ask, massaging my throbbing temples, still avoiding inhaling anything. "It feels like he's about to snap at all of this already..."

Mrs. Jones washes her hands quickly, before flipping the waffle. "I've known Mr. Grey for some time, and yes, things are looking really bad, but you hiding this won't make things better."

She's right. She's always right. Christian appreciates honesty above all. We wouldn't have gotten to where we are now by concealing things.

"Should I call him now?"

"Don't say that over the phone," Mrs. Jones gasps. "You tell these things face to face, sweetheart."

"I know... I'll just check on him," I correct her assumption. "With the press conference and all... I want him to know I'm here for him."

Mrs. Jones doesn't make any comment on that. Long ago has she learned that what goes on inside these walls should rarely be remarked. But I guess she is the closest thing I have to a mother right now, since mine won't be hearing of this any time soon.

"Do you think he'll be able to set things right?" I ask, feeling the wetness in my eyes building up. Damn my mood swings!

"About the pregnancy?"

"No... his company."

Mrs. Jones pours the delicious-looking waffles on a plate before peeling a banana. My eyes are fixed on her face. God knows I need to see some optimism.

"Dear, if there is a man that can come up on top is Mr. Grey."

Some may think that's a load of bullshit, but not with Mrs. Jones. She truly believes her words.

I smile.

* * *

"This is a fucking nightmare!"

My loud voice echoes throughout my office as both Andrea and Olivia take a few steps back at my reaction.

"No wonder the company is going to Hell!" I groan with frustration. "Where are yesterday's financial reports, Andrea?"

I can see her eyes holding back some tears. "Mr. Grey, I put it in your desk this morning. I..I-"

"I want the report here now! I don't care what you have to do, but I need it! Get _out_!"

Both women storm out of the room, and I sense some tears coming down their cheeks.

Truth be told, I don't even recognize myself these days. Everything pisses me off. Nothing here is perfect. Now of all times, my exquisite personal assistant decides to get sloppy.

I sink back in my chair, rubbing my eyes as a headache begins to form. It's not even eleven in the morning and this is already going downwards.

There is a light knock on the door.

"Come in."

It's Taylor. "Mr. Grey, is everything okay? Andrea called me."

I roll my eyes at her patronizing attitude. "I'm _fine_."

But he doesn't walk away. Instead, he closes the door, approaching my desk. "Is everything set for this afternoon's conference, sir?"

"You know what you have to do, right?"

He doesn't need me to remind me, but I'm getting paranoid over little things.

"I'll keep an eye on our investors and associates, sir."

Fortunately, his professionalism saves me from a nervous breakdown. "Today, they'll show their true colors."

My Blackberry's alert tone goes off, and I answer the call without even looking at who's calling. "Grey."

"Hey, Christian..."

More and more Ana's voice soothes me whenever I hear it. She's been the only thing holding me to Earth, preventing me from complete misery. When I enter this office all I have is nerve-stirring problems, but Ana is the thing that snaps me out of this whirlwind.

"Hey, baby."

"Are you okay?"

Something in her tone warns me that something is up. I remember my epiphany early this morning, and I want to tell her that I know, but I can't. For a person who enjoys controlling everything, I don't do much justice to that reputation now.

A long pause ensues, only our breathing audible. I guess both of us know what this call is about. "Ana..."

"Yes?" Her voice is now so low, that I'm predicting tears will soon follow.

The urge to tell her that I suspect the pregnancy is consuming me. But I can't deal with this now. There's no running from this, I know. I can avoid the confrontation all I want, that it'll all come crumbling down on me later on.

However...

"I'll call you later, baby."

Another pause follows, and I hear her sigh. "I hope you're okay. Good for the conference."

"Laters, baby."

They say marriage has its foundation on trust and respect. It seems ours will be put to the test.


	2. Chapter 2

**Writers block...**

**sorry to all my fans but I'm out. **

**I know many people love this story. **

**Want to adopt?**

**I was contacted by a i'mgonefromhere who wanted it. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Quite frankly, I'm an awesome writer... don't get why so few reviews. you don't deserve me here**


	4. Chapter 4

**RNGVADER RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER ****RNGVADER **


End file.
